Though tales of Lord Spur’s cruelty are legendary and his discipline of her is oft-times harsh, peasant Mitri chooses carnal servitude in the nobleman’s solar over rotting in a dungeon as his prisoner. But Lord Spur is as thorny as the vines surrounding his embattled keep. His prick stings her so. He toys with her mercilessly, all hours of the day and night, and not only in his bedchamber.
Subjected to all manner of forbidden acts, her pleasured flesh rubbed raw from leather restraints, her throat screamed hoarse from the pained releases forced upon her, Mitri accepts the bounty of her Master’s rough passion.
And then, Lord Spur brings in his squire, Nym. Not to mention his brother, Lord Talon. Whatever is she to do? The overlord presents her to each as if she were a lamb at market. There is naught to do -- save trust beyond question, save trust beyond doubt, that she has found her one true love in the dominant overlord.
But -- has she? Has she found her one true love? Or has she only succumbed to the dark seduction of the Devil of Nettlewood? |